


Strings

by ProxyOne



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Exhibitionism, Hannibal Cre-Ate-ive, JustFuckMeUp, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Sounding, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProxyOne/pseuds/ProxyOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will breaks into Hannibal's house to find out more about who he really is.  Things don't quite go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strings

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my contribution for Hannibal Cre-Ate-ive's Just Fuck Me Up fest! I honestly don't have that many kinks I won't, or haven't written at some point over the years, but I've never written sounding, nor this particular combination, sooo... here it is. Enjoy!

Will jogged up the path to Hannibal's front door, hoping that he wasn't home. The house was certainly _looking_ locked up, but Will wasn't one to take things for granted – not like that. Not since he'd been released from the BSHCI, and they'd begun working their way back into each other's lives. He wasn't entirely sure _why_ he was here, if he was being honest with himself. He just wanted to look through Hannibal's house while he wasn't there, when he could look at things, truly _see_ them, without that ever present shadow hanging over him. He doubted he would find any trace of the evidence he needed, but he did hope to find something to help him understand why Hannibal was so willing to play this game.

It amused him, the fact that Hannibal had given him a key to the house. Granted, the key had been given long before any of this had happened, but Hannibal hadn't taken it back, and Will found it very difficult to believe that he had forgotten that Will had it. And so Will slid the key slowly, quietly into the keyhole, and let himself in.

He paused for a moment, listening intently for the sounds of anyone inside. Silence was the only thing to meet him, and so he slipped in, closing the door behind him with a soft snick. He removed his shoes; it was perhaps overly cautious, but he couldn't be too careful. With the lights off it was gloomy inside, though not so much as to make overly difficult to see.

It was the strangest feeling, being in Hannibal's home without the man himself. And he was only one man, a man that Will by rights should hate

_(oh please god if I say it enough, let it come true)_

yet being here without him made the space feel so much larger, so much colder and emptier. Hannibal was a personality so much larger than his appearance would imply, in that understated way that he had.

Will shook his head, trying to re-centre himself. He was here to look, and to learn, and then he was going to leave. That was all.

He skirted through the dining room, running his fingertips across the smooth surface of the table. It was, as ever, impeccably clean, and there was a perverse sort of satisfaction in the way his skin left the faintest smudge lines behind. He didn't much care if Hannibal knew he was here after the fact, and so didn't bother to hide the signs of his intrusion. In fact, he found himself rather looking forward to seeing Hannibal at their next appointment. These games had their own appeal, Will had to admit.

Reaching the kitchen, he had to stop for a moment. Despite himself, despite everything he knew to be true about Hannibal, he still had overwhelmingly _good_ memories of this room. Hannibal may have lied about a lot of things, but his genuine regard for Will wasn't one of them. Will _knew_ that. And yes, that knowledge did make things harder, but all he had to do was think of Abigail and Beverly, and he found the strength to move on with his mission. His own feelings were irrelevant. This was about justice for them, not what Will wanted.

And _oh_ , how he wanted.

He opened the refrigerator, trying to focus on the purpose of his visit. There was nothing particularly interesting within – he hadn't expected there to be. Indeed, it was all so painfully _normal_ ; neatly stacked containers, chilled wine glasses, and a bowl of what smelled like chocolate sauce. He pulled the bowl out, ran a finger through the contents and lifted it to his lips, sucking the sauce gently off. He closed his eyes, savouring the taste for a moment longer before putting the bowl back and closing the fridge. It was nice in its own way, being here, _familiar_ , but it wasn't what he was after.

He left the kitchen, more focused now that he knew what he was looking for. He made his way to the stairs, preparing to make his way to a part of the house he had never been in before. This would be nearer to the real Hannibal – his safe space, the private areas of his house that guests were rarely invited to.

He tried not to think about the fact that Alana had been one of those rare guests granted admittance.

He climbed the stairs, footsteps as soft and silent as he could make them. Hannibal, of course, owned a house with stairs that _didn't_ creak, which pleased Will greatly. Reaching the top, he turned into the first room he found. The door was standing open, a neatly made bed against the far wall. It was clearly a guest room, nothing of any real interest within it. The en suite had small, individually wrapped soaps, tiny bottles of shampoo, and very little else. It could almost have been a hotel room, for all the personality – or lack thereof - that had been stamped on it. The bedroom had drawers, but a quick inspection showed they were all empty This room, at least, had nothing to be found.

He left the room, having touched nothing other than the drawers, and made his way down the hallway. He ducked his head into the other open doors, finding two more guest rooms and a bathroom, each as empty of personal touches as the first room. The room at the end, with its door only slightly ajar, must be Hannibal's bedroom. Will was unsurprised to find his heart rate picking up in anticipation. The rest of the house was barren, but his bedroom must hold more clues as to who Hannibal was – or who he _wanted_ people to think he was, which was just as useful to Will.

He was only a few steps away from the door when he heard a sound; just small sound, almost no more than a breath, but enough to cause him to stop dead. His ears strained to hear more, but silence had descended once more. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped forward again, his guard well and truly up. He approached the door, nudging it only enough to be able to see into the room, only to freeze completely. Hannibal _was_ home, and he was completely, and utterly, naked.

Will stared, wide-eyed and completely at a loss as to what to do. The first thing he _should_ do, his mind screamed at him, was look away, but he found himself entirely unable to do so. He was transfixed by the sight of Hannibal standing before his full length mirror, the long, lean lines of his body gleaming in the low lamp light. One hand was before him, slowly stroking the length of his erect cock. He let out a soft, low sigh, barely audible, but it was exactly like the breath Will thought he had heard before. His own dick twitched, began swelling in response to the display before him, and he lowered his own hand to press down.

He kept watching as Hannibal's free hand lifted to his chest, fingers running through coarse hair until they reached his nipples. Hannibal bit his lower lip, the smallest of grunts escaping as he twisted first one nipple, then the other, the hand on his cock maintaining its controlled, slow rhythm as he did so.

Again Will's mind told him to turn, to leave before he was caught, and again he ignored that little voice, completely incapable of tearing his eyes away. His gaze fluttered up to Hannibal's face, to find that he was watching himself intently. Will had no idea why that realisation forced his own cock into full erectness, but it did, and he was left aching. He bit his own lip in a mirror of Hannibal's action, hoping the pain of the bite would distract from how painfully aroused he was.

It didn't work.

Drops of blood spilled into his mouth from the bite and still he couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. He palmed the bulge in his pants harder, biting down again to stifle a whimper.

It was then that Hannibal shifted, releasing his cock and nipples, leaning over to retrieve something small from a tray on the table beside the mirror. Will watched in fascination as Hannibal took the long, thin implement and coated it with what appeared to be a small amount of lube before taking his cock in hand again. He ran the tip of the rod along his slit, then slowly, but firmly, pushed it in. His head tipped back as the rod made its slow way inside his cock, a long, low moan escaping him then.

Will was torn between discomfort at imagining having the same thing done to him, and a whole new type of arousal as he watched – and listened to - the effect it was so clearly having on Hannibal. The rod was being slowly pushed in, then working its way out again, extreme care being taken with every movement, but even from here Will could see the way it was making Hannibal shake with the stimulation it caused. His head had tipped forward again, and Will could see once more the way Hannibal's eyes flicked from his own reflection in the mirror, to the movement of his cock and back again. His moans were growing more frequent, less controlled, and it was altogether too much for Will to take. He hurriedly shoved his hand into his pants, taking himself in hand and squeezing. It was uncomfortable; he wasn't prepared to risk Hannibal hearing the sound of his fly being lowered, so he left his jeans done up, but it was enough to provide at least a little relief.

After a minute or two more Hannibal removed the rod, discarding it back on the tray he had picked it up from. His long fingers wrapped around his cock once more, but this time they moved with purpose, hand gripping the hard flesh tightly. His free hand roamed around his body, starting with his nipples again, then coursing down to cup his balls, ghosting back from time to time to slide between his cheeks.

Will could feel his own orgasm approaching with Hannibal's, and he squeezed the base of his cock as hard as he could in a bid to stave it off. The sight, the sounds of Hannibal pleasuring himself like this were overwhelming, and he had little doubt that if and when he came, it would not be quiet. It would most assuredly _not_ be the most ideal way for Hannibal to find out Will had been intruding in his house.

Hannibal by now had abandoned all restraint, his eyes glittering as he grunted and moaned in time with each jerk of his hand, and he raised his other hand to coat his fingers in spit. He reached back, pressing between his cheeks, and Will could see the exact moment they breached the tight ring of muscle. Without him even realising it, his own hand began moving in time with Hannibal's thrusting fingers, and he only stopped when Hannibal threw his head back with a cry, coming in great spurts over the mirror before him.

Will stood and watched in open-mouthed amazement as Hannibal reached forward and scooped up the dripping come, lifting his hand to his mouth to suck the mess from his fingers. Will's hand began moving again, not caring about the lack of room in his pants, just desperate to do something, _anything_ about the painful situation he had found himself in.

“It's only fair,” Hannibal said suddenly, his eyes lifting to meet Will's in the mirror, “that since you watched me, I get to watch you. _Quid pro quo_ , as it were.”

He turned then, body relaxed and openly displayed, his hand drifting down to tug gently on his softening cock as he looked directly at Will through the crack of the open door. Will just stared in turned on horror at being caught. Hannibal made no move towards him, instead watching in expectant interest, and _fuck_ if that didn't send a bolt of heat back through him.

“How,” he began, his voice thick and catching in his throat.

“I heard the key in the front door, heard you snooping through the guest room. I saw no reason to stop what I was doing in my own home.”

Will could only nod helplessly, before pulling his hand out of his pants. His fingers hovered over the button for a moment, before Hannibal nodded encouragingly. It was all the invitation he needed. He quickly opened his jeans, pushing the door open fully once he did. He freed his cock from the confines of his boxers where it sprung free, hard and proud and _painfully_ on the cusp of orgasm. The hungry look in Hannibal's eyes, the way he slowly stroked his own cock gave him the incentive he needed, and he began pumping. It took very little time until he was coming himself, come splattering on the carpeted floor before him. He clung to the door frame, panting, trying in vain to regain his equilibrium.

He looked up again to find Hannibal watching him with a soft expression, something almost affectionate, almost faintly surprised. It was good to know that he was capable of surprising him still.

“I'm sorry about...” he gestured vaguely towards the mess on the floor, feeling suddenly painfully shy. Hannibal didn't move except to wave a dismissive hand in Will's direction.

“It is nothing that isn't easily cleaned up.”

“Right.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment longer, before Will remembered to tuck himself back in. He pulled his jeans back up, rebuttoning them with fumbling fingers.

“I guess I'll go then.”

Hannibal nodded, but said nothing. Will stood and waited, though for what he couldn't say. Eventually he nodded once, and stepped back. He could feel Hannibal's eyes watching him as he walked away.

“Will?” Hannibal's voice rang out as Will reached the top of the stairs. He stopped, a disturbing level of hope flaring up.

“I look forward to our appointment tomorrow. Please don't be late.”

Will smiled, despite himself. Only time would tell which of them had tied a new string to the other.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Strings (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10023986) by [Caveat_Lector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caveat_Lector/pseuds/Caveat_Lector)




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